


Shana

by BonnieJ



Category: Original Work
Genre: Chickens, Gen, Shana the kampung chicken, Zhang Qiling mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27177895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BonnieJ/pseuds/BonnieJ
Summary: She was the cutest, friendliest chicken we've ever had that's closer to a cat or dog than a chicken.
Kudos: 1





	Shana

**Author's Note:**

> Shana was the last chicken of the flock we used to raise in my hometown. Then one day, she was gone. No traces of anything. She was likely no longer alive, but memories don't die. Just felt like writing this down before i forget.

Shana has been gone for half a year more. No one knew how or when she disappeared. My mom only told me during a weekend call back home; and it was more than 2 weeks after her disappearance. They tried to find, around the neighbourhood, nearby shrubbery, but no clues. 

There were guesses all around. Was she snapped up by one of our neighbour’s wandering dogs? There were one or 2 frequent escapees from a household nearby. Was she caught by some of the passing grasscutters or workers for an extra meal? She was a very friendly chicken who wasn’t too afraid of humans. Could she been caught by a musang? The musang in question refers to a civet cat, which I’ve actually seen in the wee morning hours once, from my room’s window that overlooked the neighbour’s back roof. The 6:30am sunlight was still bright enough for me to recognize the shape of the animal walking across our neighbour’s roof – slightly bigger than a housecat but has a longer snout and moved more snake-like; unlike a cat’s sure-foot grace. Or, did she join our neighbours’ flocks? There were 2 household with chickens that we know of, but none of them had standard-size ‘kampung’ chickens. A standard-size chicken among a group of bantams would stand out like a sore thumb. They would have realized it, and we would have seen it.

However, guesses were only guesses. There was no concrete evidence to back any of the guesses. Soon, there was less talk about Shana. Life went on. Dad and uncle arguing over chores and arrangement of things in the garden yard; mom with her house chores and visiting our old grandaunts. And me, with my own daily job and other stuff. Occasionally, dad would mentioned about the shrub that was Shana’s favorite hangout. He’d cut it down since he thought it overgrown, which uncle wasn’t very happy about it. Sometimes, while sweeping the front porch, the lack of chicken shit would also prompt a mention of how Shana used to hang out on the front porch, near to us humans. Cleaning the altar would have us comparing Shana with Tamagochi and Brown Lady, who were worse chickens than Shana had ever been. You know, those who peck the hand that feed them? Sometimes, talking about Ah Brave would also bring up Shana, and that came with some feelings of loss or pity. They would have been a pair right? Shana came to us shortly after Ah Brave passed away an old chicken of nearly 8-9 years. Perhaps it was fate, or fortune, if you view it differently. I don’t go back home often. My parents did not have the strength nor interest to take care of chickens anymore (chicken chores included cleaning up their coop and poop, which would be tough to deal with at times for a couple of ageing retirees). 

Shana might have been the last chicken we’ve kept; but she seemed to also keep out other chickens’ memories alive. There was not much photos of our past chickens. But she connected these memories to our present. Then, she just disappeared, without letting a glimpse of her end. Would we have preferred to find her little carcass for finite closure, or would it be enough to know she had lived a good life with us, then leaving mysteriously like Zhang Qiling? We don’t know. But at least, we know she’s still alive, somewhere in our heart and memories.

(Come to think of it, Shana also watched the series with us on TV, from her perch between the grills of our front door, at the front porch)


End file.
